


I'm Slippin' Under

by ElliHelm



Series: Inevitable [2]
Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brought To You By MTG's A+ Body Rolls, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Frenemies with Benefits, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, RIP 'Everything's Under CTRL', This Is Just Shameless Smut Honestly, With A Hint Of Feelings Because I'm A Filthy Shipper, You will not be missed, Zoey Rides Leif Like There's No Tomorrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElliHelm/pseuds/ElliHelm
Summary: “This is just casual, right? It doesn’t… mean anything?”There’s a long moment between them as she waits for his response, his eyes unreadable, and she almost starts to worry but then—“Yeah.” His voice is rough when he finally answers her, and it’s so much sexier than he has any right being, but that’s becoming par for the course in her assessment of Leif, lately.Sexier than he should be. “Casual. Definitely.”
Relationships: Zoey Clarke/Leif Donnelly
Series: Inevitable [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785943
Comments: 21
Kudos: 24





	I'm Slippin' Under

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! I haven't been feeling all too inspired to write lately, but a really sweet and unexpected comment on a fic in this series inspired me to finally bust out this smutshot I've had planned for like... literally forever. I mean, I've been telling people I was going to do a smutty continuation of Because You're Mine since the beginning so like... it's about damn time, honestly.
> 
> This one goes to the horny bitches in the Discord. I hope this lives up to your expectations. ♥

Falling through the threshold of her apartment, grappling at each other’s clothes while their tongues _oh-so-clichely_ fight for dominance, Zoey can’t help but feel that maybe Leif had been onto something when he’d called this ‘ _inevitable_.’

They don’t remain at the office for long, mostly because once she throws caution to the wind and actually decides to _embrace_ this new attraction to her nemesis ( _former_ nemesis? **_fremesis_** _?_ ) things… _escalate_. Rather quickly. And while Zoey isn’t opposed to throwing propriety to the wind on occasion, there are some lines she isn’t ready to cross just yet. _Sex in the office_ being at the very _top_ of that list.

(It’s bad enough that anyone looking too closely at the security footage for the night would find her _making out_ with _Leif freaking Donnelly_. She doesn’t need _sex_ with him immortalized.)

So they end up at her apartment complex instead, partly because it’s only a five minute ride in an uber (Zoey thanks whatever god is out there that she doesn’t have any trouble finding a ride this late at night because she’s not sure she could handle keeping her hands to herself on public transit and a walk would only give her ample time to second guess the decision she’s making) and partly because she’s fairly certain Leif and Tobin are roommates, and there’s not a chance in _hell_ that she’s risking anyone _else_ knowing about this hookup. Anyone else at _work_ , anyways, since she also happens to have a _very_ nosy neighbor, and neither one of them is making any effort to be _quiet_.

(Needless to say, that's an uncomfortable conversation she looks forward to _avoiding_ in the morning.)

Maybe she should take it as a sign, how her ‘ ** _everything’s under ctrl_** ’ picture falls and shatters when their combined body weight slams the door shut. It’s almost hilariously appropriate for the situation since absolutely _nothing_ is under control and hasn’t been since she’d heard Leif’s heart song, but rather than linger on the irony she grabs onto his tie again and pulls him down to swallow whatever apology he’d been about to give.

Kissing Leif is… _addictive_. For every kiss they share, Zoey finds herself wanting ten more, seeking out his lips every time they inevitably break away. He tastes like the overly sweet coffee she’d brought to him earlier that night plus, oddly enough, _chewing gum_ , and it shouldn’t work. She shouldn’t want _more_ of that taste, _but she does_. She wants it _very much_ , and she’s long past the point of caring whether knowledge of that fact will boost his already impossibly large ego.

(It will and already has, but Leif hardly has the time to gloat about it with his mouth otherwise occupied, so Zoey’s going to count that as a _win_ for her.)

They stumble to her bedroom just _slightly_ more artfully, guided by her hand still gripping his tie and muscle memory of her apartment layout, and when she pushes him onto her bed he falls easily, _willingly_. If she didn’t already know _just_ how deceptively strong he is, she’d swear she could snap him in half if she wanted to. 

_Maybe he’d let her anyway._ He doesn’t seem to have any protests as she settles into his lap, fingers working at unbuttoning his cardigan while she chases the taste of chewing gum and sugary coffee. If she wanted to take him apart like this, with deliberate rocks of her hips into his and her lips all over his neck, adding to the marks she’d already left there, he’d probably let her.

Driven by curiosity and a desire to hear that throaty moan again, she breaks away, trailing her kisses down his jawline. She can feel his breath catch when she hits his throat as well as what she assumes is a shiver of anticipation, but instead of a moan he pulls away slightly, looking at her with an entirely unreadable expression.

(Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a heart song right now to let her know what was going on in that mind of his. Then again, a heart song also meant choreography and singing, neither of which were likely to be of the sexual persuasion.)

“We’re doing this… yeah?” he asks, finally, after what feels like an eternity of just looking at her, and no, they’re definitely _not_ going to examine whatever flutter that just was in her stomach. 

It’s just... an atypically _sweet_ gesture, coming from Leif. _That’s all_. Or maybe it isn’t atypical at all, and there’s just a _lot_ she doesn’t know about him. Either way, she needs to give him an answer, and that answer is—

“I’m not having any second thoughts.”

If she’s going to hell, then she might as well do it thoroughly. There’s nothing to second guess about that.

That seems to be the right answer because his reply is a mischievous grin preceding another display of his unexpected strength, swapping their positions and pushing her back onto the bed in a quick and easy motion. Or maybe it’s the wrong answer because he’s seizing the control she’d had an unquestionable grip on until now, which isn’t what she wants… _right?_ But any protests die quickly on her lips, replaced with a moan as he exploits _her_ weak spot. 

_Damn him._

He finds the spots that drive her crazy faster than she’d found his, but the irritation when she feels him smirk against her skin is drowned out by the pleasure it elicits. _Leave it to Leif Donnelly to turn everything into a competition._ She almost doesn’t notice when his hands move from her thighs to her waistband, undoing the button with a deftness he absolutely should _not_ have for how turned on they both are. This is definitely a competition. One in control, and he’s ( _regretfully_ ) winning it.

He’s got a point, though. Less clothes. Absolute banger of an idea.

She’s about to start pushing off his cardigan too when he begins pulling her pants down, and to her surprise, he takes her underwear with it, abandoning his assault on her neck to—

Oh. _Oh!_

Zoey thinks faintly, with what little brain function she has left now that Leif’s lips are at her inner thighs placing teasing, _not-quite-there_ kisses, that she had _not_ expected him to be quite so pleasure-focused. And also that he’s a right bastard for teasing her like this after everything that’s happened. Mostly that, actually. Jesus Christ, would it _kill_ him to just eat her out already? She’s never been more turned on in her life, and the kisses he’s leaving on her thighs, everywhere _but_ where she wants him, are driving her fucking _crazy_. If he doesn’t get a move on, she might spontaneously combust.

It feels like it’s been forever when she finally feels hot breath over her center, and she’s aching for it, _definitely_ trembling a little bit, thrumming in **want** for Leif. Which, naturally, means she’s due for one last freak out because what the _fuck_ is she doing? This isn’t just a quick fuck in her apartment with Leif. He’s about to _eat her out_. In her bed. With _zero_ prompting to do so. What sort of dangerous territory has she gotten herself into?

“Wait!” she starts, and it shouldn’t impress her how easily Leif pulls back because that’s like, the _bare minimum_ as far as consent goes, but he does, and she can see the question in his eyes, but there’s no judgement there as he waits for her to continue.

It’s killing her to wait. Absolutely all she wants is his tongue and fingers and, at some point, his _dick_ inside her, but she needs reassurance that this can be something simple. Uncomplicated. If Leif’s heart song is anything to go by, he’s not in this for the right reasons, and she’s _fine_ with that. 

The last thing she needs is to get into a serious relationship with her subordinate with everything else going on in her life right now.

“This is just casual, right? It doesn’t… mean anything?”

There’s a long moment between them as she waits for his response, his eyes unreadable, and she almost starts to worry but then—

“Yeah.” His voice is rough when he finally answers her, and it’s so much sexier than he has any right being, but that’s becoming par for the course in her assessment of Leif, lately. _Sexier than he should be_. “Casual. _Definitely_.”

It’s exactly what she’d needed to hear, so she abandons all thoughts of _waiting_ for the foreseeable future and buries her hands in his hair, directing him back to where he’d been headed before she’d asked him to stop.

The first swipe of his tongue short-circuits her brain, and she whimpers — actually, honest-to-god _whimpers_ — and she’d be embarrassed by it, but for once, he doesn’t smirk or pull back to brag. He just burrows in further without prompting, eating her out with an enthusiasm and skill that she couldn’t have dreamt up in her wildest fantasies.

Not that she’s been fantasizing about Leif. (She _has_ , actually, just not _recently_.)

“Leif…” she moans, breathy and shaking when he directs his attention to her clit and slides two fingers inside her. “Oh, God, _Leif_ …”

His fingers pump into her at an agonizing pace, too slow to be anything but more teasing, and her hips buck in an attempt to force _more_. _God, is she going to have to threaten to fire him or something to get him into gear?_ Zoey’s halfway considering it when his fingers suddenly crook inside her, seeking out her g-spot, and all thoughts of threatening him fly out the window because he speeds up once he finds it, pushing her closer and closer to her peak without pause.

“ _Fuck_.” She can feel her orgasm fast approaching and her grip on his hair tightens in his response, but she doesn’t need to force it as he willingly gives her more, _more_ , **MORE**. “Fuck, that’s so good, Leif. Please don’t stop. _Please don’t_ —”

Her orgasm takes her by surprise when he sucks hard on her clit at the same time he pushes up hard into her g-spot, interrupting her begging with the force of it. What’s worse (or is it better? she’s not entirely sure now that her brain feels like it’s gonna dribble out of her ears; it’s _something_ ) is that he doesn’t let up even a little bit as he works her through her orgasm, leaving her just on the edge of oversensitized when he finally pulls back.

_Is he smirking? He better not be smirking._

It wouldn’t actually matter if he was. She wants him too much for it to make much of a difference, but it’s still nice to see that the only thing in his face is unbridled desire when she meets his gaze.

_His turn._

“Condom. Naked. Now,” she says bluntly, pushing him up off of her and twisting to grab the aforementioned condom from her dresser, which she throws at him.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies, _far_ too put together even though she can see his boner tenting his already impossibly tight pants, and it’s _irritating_ , but not enough for her to complain since he also goes right into peeling off his cardigan and his tie and his pants and—

 _Shit_ , she's staring now, isn’t she? _Focus, Zoey._ He isn’t the only one who needs to get naked now.

Zoey shrugs off her jacket first, tossing it somewhere behind her before making quick work of her sweater and then, for good measure, her _bra_. When she finally directs her attention back to Leif he’s fully naked as well, standing before her only _somewhat_ self consciously, and she takes a moment to take him in. Gets herself an eyeful of his lean, but still muscular abdomen. Grabs an eyeful of the marks she’d left on his neck earlier, some red and some now a deep purple. Guiltily sneaks an eyeful of the erection that started it all, which… _wow_. Just _wow_. And then, before he can take the lead again, she grabs his hands and pulls him on top of her, rolling them over so that she’s on top again.

“Zoey…” There’s that groan again, throaty and rough and he _has_ to know what it does to her by now, so it’s just as much a prompt to get a move on as it is an expression of desire. It almost works. _Almost_ , but…

Turnabout is fair play.

“ _What?_ ” she asks innocently, using her new position to rub her slit over his dick. _Teasing._

“ _Zoey_ …” he pleads again, more forcefully this time, and because she’s not a _monster_ (and also equally as horny as he is right now) she gives in, guiding him into her as she sinks onto him slowly.

“ ** _Fuck._** ”

It’s almost ridiculous how in sync they are once he’s inside her, the expletive falling out of their mouths at the same time, and she giggles at the absurdity of it, grinning widely down at Leif.

“Exactly!” she says, and when he snorts she rocks her hips again, smirking as it turns into a moan.

She starts with a slow pace, acclimating to the feel of him inside of her and taking note of his reactions. He seems content to let her take the lead now, allowing her to set the pace without protest, and it gives her a chance to really look at him. To watch the shiver she evokes when she rakes her nails over his nipples lightly. She studies his face too, an opportunity she hasn’t really had until now. She looks at his lips, parted slightly as his breath hitches on a particularly deep thrust. If she leaned in to kiss him right now she’d probably taste herself on his lips, mixed with sweet coffee and gum, which isn’t… _entirely_ unappealing. She looks at his eyes, closed right now, though she knows they’re just as blue as hers. She’s always thought of herself as a brown eye kinda gal, but she might be coming around.

And then she notices it. _The scar_. Has it always been there? Zoey’s sure it must have, but now that she’s noticed it she can’t stop looking at it, reaching up with one hand to thumb over it delicately. The action seems to startle him as much as it does her, and his eyes fly open, gazing at her with a look that she can’t quite name (and isn’t sure she _wants_ to). 

Rather than look away to avoid his gaze she leans in and captures his lips instead, moaning at her taste on his tongue and speeding up the movement of her hips against his. And because she can’t resist, she breaks away and scrapes her teeth over his Adam’s apple again, relishing in the guaranteed reaction she draws out of him.

She wants to drive him over the edge. She wants to watch as he loses control and see him fall apart under her. _Because of her_. So she plays dirty. She leans into his ear starts with a stream of disjointed thoughts telling him how good he is, how great he feels, and soft pleadings to cum for her that must pay off because he does finally fall over that edge, and even though she doesn’t go with him, the rush she gets from making him come undone is _worth it_. _So worth it._

When all is said and done and they’re both cleaned up and settled in her bed, cuddling in their underwear, it strikes her just how weird this _doesn’t_ feel. She’s comfortable playing big spoon for Leif, and maybe this doesn’t _quite_ fit in with their “casual” label, but it doesn’t _scare_ her either.

She _is_ going to have to somehow get him out of here before Mo can pull a Spanish Inquisition come morning, though. That _does_ scare her just a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr!](https://leifdonnellys.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Comments feed me deep in my soul. Kudos boost my serotonin levels. Doing both earns you my undying adoration. ♥


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